


A Course Altered

by Amielleon



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Father-Daughter Relationship, First Timeline, Gen, Past Abuse, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 10:41:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amielleon/pseuds/Amielleon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their world is doomed, but sometimes their struggles amount to something after all. Henry, Severa, and parenthood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Course Altered

_父さんはそうやっていっつもヘラヘラ笑って、わけわかんないことばっか言って、ほんと頼りない父親だったわ。_

_You were always grinning like an idiot just like you are now, and saying stuff like you obviously didn't get what was going on—you were seriously a flaky father._

* * *

"Now, don't call it gross. That little plant worked hard to grow up so you could eat it."

" _Dad_." Severa scrunches up her nose, and says for the first time, "Plants don't have _feelings_." Then she reluctantly picks it up with her chopsticks from the bowl in her lap and sticks it all into her mouth at once.

She's already so serious at seven.

Is that normal? Henry tries to remember anything Cordelia's told him about her youth, but all her stories were a blur of riding lessons and drills with the spear, with only the odd anecdote about her and Sumia at play. She never mentioned when she lost her sense of wonder.

(As for Henry, he hadn't had much of one in the beginning. Gaining it had been a struggle. He has no intentions of letting it go.)

"But they do," he insists. "Most people just never notice because they're pretty quiet about it."

Severa rolls her eyes at him, quiet behind her too-big mouthful of tough weed. Cordelia would have told her sternly (but not unkindly) not to roll her eyes at her parents. Cordelia hasn't been here for over two years, and at times Henry suspects he's been too forgiving.

She makes a show of swallowing, and Henry says, "That's a good girl. Come on, let's get our things and get back to the others."

For the last few years their forces had been split: Chrom led his main forces deeper into the heart of Plegia while the rest of their retinue stayed behind in their Plegian stronghold to defend their children. But every day they've had to stray farther from the fort to find the necessities. Today they had to walk some two or three miles out to find a serviceable patch of vegetation. At some point they'll have to retreat—but the general in command here wouldn't sanction it unless he heard of his lord's very death, they know.

Sometimes Henry thinks that things would be easier for him if he had remained in Plegia's good graces. But being branded a traitor over that matter with the Exalt made life there rather difficult for him.

With Severa's little hand in his, he can't really say he regrets his impulsive teenage mistakes.

Halfway back to the fort, he spots the uncanny movement of Risen at the edge of the clearing. He fishes out a tome and hands her the bag of food. "There are some Risen coming," he tells her, "so hold onto this for me and stick close, okay?"

Severa hugs the bag to her chest and looks up at him with insufferably sweet eyes as she says, "Can I fight them too?"

"Not yet," he says cheerfully. (Many of the other parents had assured their children that once they started they'd soon be sick of it, but Henry doesn't see anything wrong with Severa looking forward to things while she can.) "But stick close so I can keep you safe, okay?"

Severa hovers by his side as he flips open a common fire tome. Any Risen from around here must have come from the bodies of common villagers. Routine. Nothing much to worry about. He strikes down the first few stumblers with a single blast of magic each. Then a pair of cavalry—must have been the village guardsmen—who took two, with a bit of hexwork to make sure they'd fall before reaching them.

All at once, he senses darkness gathering in the air.

He grabs Severa. She screams as he holds her under him. The blast whips against his body, tears his cloak, and singes one cheek as it laughs in his ear.

That actually hurt.

It's no ordinary Risen, he knows. "Don't move," he whispers to Severa. With one arm still across her back, he lets his fire tome fall into the grass and slips Waste out from the bag she'd dropped to the ground. There was no way he'd give that Risen another chance to attack. Not with Severa here.

He opens the tome with one hand and the second incantation's already on his lips when the first one hurtles toward the Risen. It takes the first blow full in the chest and stays standing, then dodges the second.

It's fast. Before Henry can cast again, the Risen's own spell rips through the air, and he braces Severa against his chest again as he lets it strike him head-on. When he opens his eyes there's blood dripping onto the ground before him. His head's ringing as he realizes with relief that it's his own.

Severa's crying and he tries not to hear it as he casts again. One bolt. Then, summoning forth all his might, a second meant to end it.

The strike sends the Risen's desiccated body flopping across the plain.

When it doesn't rise again, Henry takes the time to mop the blood off his face with his sleeve and pat Severa's shaky back. "Oh, now that was a strong one," he says. "Are you all right?"

"Uh... uh-huh."

"Well, it's taken care of now. Let's make sure it stays down. Why don't you help me clear some brush for a fire?"

Severa lifts her face from his chest and does her best to open her eyes wide to look like she hadn't been crying. "Okay," she says.

Henry spots a bit of blood in her hair and wipes it off under the guise of patting her head. "Good! You're so helpful."

He's not seriously wounded—he thinks, anyway. The sting of magic burns across the shoulders and down at an angle across his back, and there's something off about the way his head is ringing. The healers could have a better look at him once they got back. But first—he takes the dagger from his boot as he goes to where the Risen had fallen. They had learned the hard way that Risen had a way of coming back over and over if you didn't dispose of them thoroughly enough, and he was taking no chances with a foe as strong as this one.

With the intention of severing its neck, Henry draws the Risen's hood back from its head and lifts it up by its hair when he catches a good look at its face—and abruptly drops it.

It's his mother's face.

Upon inspection he's less certain. It _could_ be his mother, allowing for fifteen years of aging and a few hours of rotting. Or it could merely be some other woman-sorcerer who looks a great deal like her.

Henry parts the Risen's robe as if he could find some kind of proof. As if there could be. His parents had hardly owned anything, and what they did own, he doesn't remember. The Risen's wearing a plain tunic under its cheap soiled robe. No jewelry. But she'd pawned her wedding band long ago anyway.

If it were—did she see him, from behind those glowing eyes? Did she see what a strong sorcerer and father he'd become? Deep within the cage of the spell that bound her, could she have—maybe, possibly—finally felt proud of him?

"I'm done clearing," Severa calls, and sits down on the grass.

"All right! One moment," he says. It was all pointless speculation anyway. As if he could ever know. He lifts its head again, brings his dagger to its throat, and saws through its neck as cleanly as he can. Then he brings it over to the little patch of ground Severa had cleared and covers it with a bit of dry brush. "Now let's see, where's that fire tome—"

"Over here. You shouldn't throw your weapons around like that, dad."

"Ahaha, you're right! I'm lucky I have you to keep track of them."

He steps back, raises a hand, and sets it ablaze. Mother or no mother, it won't be rising again.

"Now let's hurry back before more come," he says, tucking the tomes into the bag.

Severa doesn't get up. "My foot hurts," Severa says, holding out her arms. "It hurt my foot."

"Did it? Let me see." He squats down for a look. The back of her shoe had singed away, showing a dark burn across the back of her heel. It wasn't too bad—to his inspection it'd heal scarlessly within days. "Oh, it did. Want a spell to make it feel better?" She nods tearfully, and he makes a big show of waving his hands about. (There is no hex to take away pain, though he's spent half his life searching.) "There we go! Better?"

"A little."

"But we don't want to make it worse. Come on then, I'll carry you."

She wraps her arms around his neck, rubbing his coarse robes against his magic-burnt shoulders. He doesn't say anything as he picks her up in one arm and lifts the bag with the other.

"Maybe you should stay back in the fort tomorrow, hm?"

"Unh-uh," Severa mumbles.

"But it's dangerous out here, you know."

"I need the experience," she says, copying his own argument from the weeks before. Somehow, carrying her back in a frightened little bundle in his arms, Henry didn't think that was the real reason she was objecting. "Besides, you'll protect me."

"Oh?"

"Uh huh. You promised."

"Oh, yup." He kisses the top of her head. "I promised I'd always be here for you, didn't I?"

* * *

_…でも、母さんが帰って来なくなった後はずっとあたしと一緒にいてくれた。大丈夫だよって…母さんがいなくても僕がいるからって…_

_...But, after mom never came back, you were always with me. "It'll be all right," you said, "because even if she doesn't come back I'll be here"..._

**Author's Note:**

> If Henry isn't what you're expecting, that's because I'm writing him off of his Japanese characterization. I did a writeup of the differences that you can find [here](http://amielleon.dreamwidth.org/213760.html).
> 
> The quotes are from their Future of Despair DLC conversation. Henry/Cordelia is my least favorite pairing for him, but he's such a sweet single-dad to Severa. You can find the whole thing over [here](http://fe-according-to-japan.tumblr.com/post/46362262192/doomed-timeline-dlc-severa-and-henry).
> 
> My other source of inspiration was a real girl named Oxana Malaya, who was similarly neglected and ultimately raised by some local dogs. Something that stuck with me about her story is that despite everything, she wanted to meet her father again and show him what she was able to do. (If you like this and/or Henry in general, you should read [this article](http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/tvandradio/3653890/Cry-of-an-enfant-sauvage.html).)
> 
> While I'm here and babbling anyway--I love feedback. C:


End file.
